feeling the weight

My church here is "Una Iglesia Cristiana" or simply, "A Christian Church." It is in a small area outside of town called "Pueblito de Rocha" in the backyard of pastor Cesar. It is so wonderful to have church outside, surrounded by fresh air and flowers and Ah!! It's great. But obviously, as with most places, the people are what make it. I've been practicing to sing with the band of Abner, Elvis, Andrea, Jimena and two guys whose names I forget. :) Woops. It's so fun--the Spanish versions of English songs and hymns smash lots of syllables into a space where there would usually only be one or two, and what's more: these people love to worship! The rest of the church is maybe 20 to 30 other people of all ages, and all of whom are very loving. Maybe it's just Latin American culture, but I am amazed at the way the people at the church don't hesitate for a second before they approach a person they've never met before, embrace them and kiss them on the cheek.

So, I was sitting there on Sunday (El Día de San Valentín!), listening to Cesar talking about how Jesus literally laid down his life in the most brutal way for my individual screw-ups. I listened intently, but something in me felt like "Yeah, I've heard it before." You know? If you've grown up in church or in a culture saturated with "ideals" of Christian morals, I feel like there comes a point when you don't cringe in disgust when you hear about the way his hands were pierced and the crown of thorns was laid on his head. The way they mocked him and called him the worst of names because they were afraid of his power and influence. To us, sometimes he becomes just a painting or a cross around the neck, a tradition of a man who taught some meaningful stuff and was not accepted. But his blood was real. So, I was sitting there about half dazed and trying to focus on understanding all of Cesar's rapid Spanish. About 1/4 of the church is deaf/mute, and a friend named José, or Pepe, signs for them. I looked over at him as Cesar described the crucifixion, and he acted out with greatest feeling the way Christ bore the cross, stumbling under its weight, the way they pounded nails into his hands without hesitation, the way he bled and writhed in pain. And I saw a tear falling down Pepe's face as he acted out the event that took place 2000 years ago because of each of us. And I thought, "I want to feel that this is more than just a painting or stained glass windows or hymns or morals or traditions. I want to feel the weight of what he did for me." When we truly realize this and realize who he is, our lives and hearts can't help but to be changed.


Other stuff here is good! I've been sick for much of the time I've been here (I think it's allergies or somethin'?), but I am so grateful for my friends here and my Mexican family who have been soo good to me!


Miss you guys and LOVE you!

Amor y paz. :)